When The Pitcher Strikes Out

During PE (Physical Education or gym class) in my senior year of high school, the teacher decided we’d spend a couple of weeks learning about and playing baseball. I’d always enjoyed PE, and this particular teacher was great. He’d lay out the rules of various sports, have us practice drills for a few days, and then run two sets of games: one competitive and one for fun. We students were allowed to choose which we did; that way, we could be with classmates on our own skill levels. For example, during our volleyball session, I played on the fun side as I’m terrible at volleyball. When we did soccer, I played on the competitive side because I was on the school team.

When it came time to actually play baseball, the coach said that just for the first game, we would all play together (he split us into teams with equal amounts of “new” players and “experienced” players) so that he could pitch. He stressed that he wanted everyone to be able to hit the ball, so he would be very generous with pitching and calling a fair ball versus a foul or strike.

I approached him as we headed out to the baseball field and explained that I was especially terrible at hitting a ball. I literally struck out multiple times in tee ball, a younger child’s version of baseball where the ball is set in front of the hitter on a stationary tee. It’s hard to strike out as much as I did; I actually found out in adulthood that I have a mild eye condition that makes things like hitting baseballs and volleyballs difficult. But I had a solution! One of my classmates was on the school’s baseball team but had a sprained ankle. Meanwhile, I was captain of the school’s track and field team and had previously captained the cross country team; my classmate could hit for me and I’d be his designated runner.

It made sense to my classmate and me, but the teacher said he really wanted everyone to feel good about being able to hit the ball. So, when my team was at bat, I got in line and waited. All my classmates hit the ball in four or fewer tries, so I thought maybe I’d have a chance. The teacher was pitching well, and very gently for us new players.

But when I got to the plate, I couldn’t hit the ball to save my life. After about ten strikes, I suggested that we go with my plan to be my injured classmate’s designated runner. After twenty, I suggested it again and assured him that my self-confidence in sports and otherwise was fine. I had multiple varsity letters in five different sports; I just wasn’t good at baseball.

Finally, after — and I’m not exaggerating — thirty-two strikes, the teacher saw how bored everyone else was and how non-existent my hitting skills were, so he let my injured classmate up to the plate. My classmate instantly hit the ball deep into the outfield, and I sprinted to second base. With the game finally moving again, I was even able to score! I was a designated runner for the rest of the baseball session.

Even in the moment, I appreciated that he was sincerely trying to help. He didn’t want me to be embarrassed at being the only one to strike out. It just took him a bit to realize that not only was I unbelievably bad at hitting, but I also wasn’t embarrassed by it. More than anything, I was amused by the whole situation, and it still makes me laugh years later.